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Review: The Violinist

Stories of Solanus Casey

You might say that Blessed Solanus Casey strikes a “charming chord.” Imagine a humble Capuchin friar with an intense love for playing the violin—even if, as his friends gently put it, it was scratchy. He played despite a lack of great skill, demonstrating something quintessentially human in this holy man. He played without concern for his lack of virtuosity. He was unashamed of his imperfections. This delightful short film, The Violinist: Stories of Solanus Casey, by the Augustine Institute, captures that very spirit of Solanus, presenting him as both deeply relatable and spiritually magnetic.

Blessed Solanus Casey was known for helping countless souls in need, offering comfort and aid to people from all walks of life. What makes this film special is the deeply personal way it brings Solanus’ story to life through the experiences of three individuals who had meaningful encounters with him.

The film tells a part of Blessed Solanus’ life through encounters with three people who knew him. We are introduced to his niece, who first met him at a family reunion when she was just 15. She knew of him and was looking forward to meeting this priest that was larger than life. When he joined his siblings at the family picnic, what stood out most was that he was just a regular guy. Fr. Solanus would eventually be instrumental in her decision to enter the convent, a decision that she came to after his gentle listening and urging that her decision was between her and God alone. Next, we meet a plucky Irish woman who came to the United States as a girl, leaving behind a childhood of hard work in search of opportunity in a new country. Fr. Solanus proved to be a great influence in her life, modeling the virtue of helping others. Finally, we meet a brother Capuchin friar who lived with Fr. Solanus in Detroit. One Christmas, he encountered Fr. Solanus, alone in the church late at night, playing his violin for the child Jesus. He was moved to how much his brother friar loved the Lord.

Solanus’ quirky love for the violin adds warmth and humor to the narrative. This friar didn’t play to impress but to express his joy, despite his lack of skill. His simple, sometimes off-tune performances were a small testament to his childlike heart. At a time when people often think saints must be perfect, Solanus shows us that holiness is a journey for the wholehearted, not the flawless. The violin is symbolic of his life: sometimes awkward, not always pitch-perfect, but always offered with love.

Through the lens of these three individuals and the humility of a man who embraced life’s imperfections, the film paints a portrait of Solanus Casey as a saint for our times. With a simple yet profound faith, he listened and helped, bringing God’s light into the darkest of situations.

Florissant, MO, October 23, 2024— At a time when the Church turns its attention in a special way toward the heroic and virtuous lives of the many holy men and women who make up the Communion of Saints, the Augustine Institute, in partnership with Digital Continent, announces the release of a new documentary series called “Based on a True Saint.”  Through captivating illustrations, photography, video, and immersive storytelling, the new series uncovers the lives of saints (and soon-to-be saints) from the people who actually knew them in real life.  Ahead of All Saints Day and his November birthday, Blessed Solanus Casey leads the way as the featured subject in the first installment of the series now available on Formed, the Augustine Institute’s on-demand streaming platform.
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Creative Ways to Evangelize: The Tiny Jesus Mission

A tiny rubber figurine of Jesus changed the way I evangelize.

In my work as a writer, I am content to sit behind the scenes. I am emboldened to speak my mind or share my deepest longings on the page in a way I would never do face-to-face with a stranger. I share my love of Jesus and the Blessed Mother joyfully in an article or a book, but I am shy when it comes to talking with others about my faith.

Enter Jesus, or rather, a kitschy little version of Him.

Who doesn’t love a pocket-sized Jesus?

This past summer, while helping my daughter do some back-to-school shopping for her children and her classroom, I bought a dozen tiny Jesus figurines to add to her treasure box in the classroom. It was an impulse buy, but I was charmed by the figurines and thought some of the lower grade kids would like them, too. They did! And within a week she was out of this little treasure.

It was about that time that I started seeing these same little Jesus figurines pop up on social media. Apparently, someone took inspiration from the ducks-on-a-Jeep trend (Jeep owners place rubber duckies on each other’s cars as a nod to their Jeep loyalty), and started placing Tiny Jesus in public spaces.

Becoming intrepid missionaries

My husband immediately ordered three bags of the figurines. The large bag went to our daughter for the classroom, and he and I each got our own smaller bag. Thus began a fun and, I think, impactful way to evangelize.

I started this mission with some trepidation. What if I got caught while placing Jesus in a random spot? What if the business owner thought I was up to something? What if I made people angry or offended them?

What if I spread a little joy?

That’s exactly what happened. I don’t know what the reaction has been to Tiny Jesus placed in bookshelves, public bathrooms, and self-checkouts, but the inevitable happened. I got caught!

When I finished putting stamps on some letters at the counter in the post office, I took out a Tiny Jesus and placed it a little off to the side but visible to the clerk.  I was surprised by a gleeful laugh from behind. The clerk had walked around behind me to replace some forms and caught me leaving the figurine for her.

The conversation that followed was animated and cheerful. “Oh, it’s a tiny little Jesus!” Her delighted exclamation made me laugh with her. And then she wanted to know all about what I was doing sneaking Jesus around like that. She even looked up the figurines and ordered a bag right then and there, excited to join in this fun evangelization game.

Am I converting souls with this little game? Well, we know that’s for the Holy Spirit. What I do know is I am bringing joy to the people open to receiving this little gift. So far, everyone I’ve encountered already knows Jesus, so why bother? Because any opportunity for bringing up our Lord is a beautiful moment of engagement. I’ll never know the impact of this game, but that’s not the point.

I discovered an important element to this mission: it has engaged my family. My husband pops a figure in his pocket when he goes out to run errands. My daughter plans to place her Tiny Jesus figures all over the school for the students to find, but my heart burst when my grandson took his Tiny Jesus and wanted to give it away immediately. In a sweetly unintended way, he has learned to be joyful in sharing his faith. That’s enough to keep me stocking Tiny Jesus for the next surprise encounter.

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Happy Feast of Our Lady of Begoña

My mother, Miren Begoña, and me, María Begoña. Miren is Maria in Basque.

Today is the feast day of a little known Marian devotion, Our Lady of Begoña. She is called Amatxu, mother, to the people of Biscay. This is special to me because I am named after the Blessed Virgin Mary under this title. You may know me as María, but family and close friends call me by my true name, the name I was called by my mother, Begoña. That explains why my social media is a variation of Bego.

My mother is also named Begoña. Her parents, Basques from Guipuzcoa, fled the strife of the Spanish Civil War, and settled in Cuba. When my mother was born, she was named after their beloved, amatxu. When I was born, I was given the same name.

A Name Isn’t Just a Name

I never gave much thought to why I carry this name, but with maturity comes the opportunity for some introspection. I understand why my mother bears this name, a way for my grandparents to hold onto their homeland and perhaps give a piece of it to their daughter born abroad. And I understand that I carry that piece of them, too.

I am a continent and two countries separated from their home of Legazpi. Who knew that one day their grandchildren would be in the United States, with children and grandchildren of their own. I didn’t always love my name because others thought it was “hard to pronounce” and too easy to default to Maria, but as I grew older, I think that perhaps I grew into it. There is nothing sweeter than being called by that name now.

The Story of Our Lady of Begoña

The origins of this devotion trace back to the early 16th century, though local legend suggests that the image of the Virgin Mary associated with Begoña dates to much earlier times. According to tradition, the Virgin appeared to a shepherd on the hillside of Begoña, near Bilbao, and a chapel was built in her honor.

The small chapel quickly became a pilgrimage site, as people from the surrounding Basque region flocked to seek the intercession of the Virgin Mary. Over the centuries, the site underwent several transformations, with the current basilica, built in Gothic style, constructed between the 16th and 17th centuries.

Throughout history, the devotion to Our Lady of Begoña has been a source of consolation and strength, especially for the Basque people. In times of war, plague, and hardship, many turned to her for protection. During the Spanish Civil War, the basilica was damaged by shelling, yet the faithful continued to venerate the Virgin. Her statue, housed within the basilica, has become a symbol of the enduring faith of the people.

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